talking poetry...talking life

hi dear friends, this is our humble cafe where we gather sayings , opinions, critical views or notes and many other poems and poets' stuff...we have links and related material and would love to hear from you!

The main pillar of writing poetry is imagination, which is, as I see it, the energy of mind that interacts with reality; having the ability to initiate feelings, senses ,images, and ideas and setting them as a cinematic scene. without this energy nothing can be established; but how is it that this energy comes to exist? Far from brain and nervous system physiology and nearer to poetic expressions; we find that it is created after preserving what is abundant of senses after listening well and highly concentrating and sharpening your seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, and tasting. After this sensual expertise is acquired, we must not keep ourselves limited to this sensation. We need, at this point, to push in our imagination. at the same time, imagination seems weak and helpless without this accumulation of feelings. Those feelings need to be stored as fresh as possible, and kept soft and delicate; called upon writing though never mechanically or intentionally but simultaneously as a result of the creative interaction between the poet, the world of his text and reality. Feelings, images and ideas are a negative sum of components if not directed in a constructive manner that would empower the text and give it a continuous texture. The relation between imagination and poetic texts is an invisible relation that appears only through organizing the imagination process inside the text. The fact is that what we find inside the text as it is being built and erected, is the reflection of the poet’s capacity of managing his imagination by his expertise in this field and his ability to benefit from his stored senses and feelings. What does the poet’s imagination name: a tree, childhood, war, or even friendship? they are named and described according to their power and style of impact upon one's mind and that would simply overwhelm the crystallizing text ; our experience that has sought from this tree its movement, color, or even its gradients, and what it draws inside us of special taste and odor; is it an individual shoot or does emerge as a forest abundance? is it a tree for dreams? or is it the precursor of a coffin? our experience in life opens the doors for many inquiries and leads us to the edges of a certain poetic text. where does this experience come from? is it from our alien feeling towards reality or is it from our full integration within? imagination that is already rooted in the grounds of reality places us on the crossing point of being a stranger or intimate with reality; we return reality its belongings in the form of texts and poems that it might deny... but whether accepting it or not those poems are the children of reality. we stand in front of the mirrors for a lengthy time , we wrote poetry after turning away from those mirrors. so, it seems only logical that we have written down our imagination after no mirror is left before us...I guess that writing poetry is imagining reality in the instance of its absence ...can I say that this is the ultimate poetic peak? maybe even more....